


Let the Sunlight In

by krispy_kream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Awkward Flirting, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Language of Flowers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-23 09:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9649241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krispy_kream/pseuds/krispy_kream
Summary: Daffodils don't sound like the most romantic flowers in the world, but Keith knows they mean new beginnings. And this earnest, flustered business man from down the street is beginning to tear down his walls. (Against his better judgement, Keith wants him to succeed.)





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This has been done before, but I needed some self-indulgent therapy so here we are. Thank you, Mei, for your [beautiful fanart.](http://maccalon.tumblr.com/post/152073440564/au-where-shiro-is-a-businessman-and-falls-in-love)

It was Allura’s last day in their department. She was moving up through the company as they always knew she would. Were flowers even appropriate for this occasion? But he was her second in command, if anyone could offer flowers at her send off, it was him.

But what… kind? Not roses, obviously, but that was the end of his floral knowledge. And he couldn’t just buy any old bunch of flowers from the supermarket, not for the princess of their company. He searched on the internet for the closest flower shop to the office, a corner shop about two blocks away, and slipped out during lunch to find it.

When he got there he realized he had never set foot inside a flower shop before. There hadn’t been any occasion for it. Just standing outside left him intimidated; The door was framed with bunches of flowers in every type and color, wooden shelves lined the walls inside and out laden with potted plants, and right inside there was a huge display dedicated solely to roses. The colors were overwhelming. Where did he even start?

Next to the roses he found a similar display of different flowers in an array of colors and types, clearly much more generic in intention. Probably one of those would work best. Even still, that didn’t narrow it down. There were flowers in every possible shape mixed in with each other, their petals spread wide or spiraling inward, fluffed out of tightly confined. Maybe something with bright colors? Something encouraging, hopeful. But perhaps that would look too immature? This was the heir of the company he was thinking about, she’s probably preferred things that were subdued and regal. Maybe these white lilies over here.

He paused a moment when his eyes caught the small pots displayed above with vividly colored flowers poking out the top. It would be so easy to take those home, to let them live in his windowsill. It would be a small relief to have something else alive in the apartment with him.

He would certainly kill it within the week. Besides, he was here for Allura. He turned to the lilies.

“Looking for something special?” someone asked.

Shiro nearly jumped out of his shoes in surprise. He turned to find a young man in a faded red apron covered in dirt. He wasn’t expecting someone so young, so bright eyed, to be working there. There was soil smudged on his cheek and it was alarming how charming he found that.

“Uh,” he answered, too busy tearing himself away from his musings on how that smudge had gotten on his face to be eloquent.

The man’s smile was small, but Shiro was certainly being laughed at. He kinda deserved it.

“What’s the occasion?”

He really should answer properly this time. “It’s, uh.” Doing great. Though, honestly, how did he explain? How did he convey how much she meant to the team, how much they were all going to miss her even while in the same building? He didn’t think he could.

“A going away present. Sort of,” he finally said. It was close enough. This guy probably didn’t care either way.

He was here for Allura.

The young man stepped beside Shiro and considered their options. “I can work with that,” he said. “You’ll want something yellow. Hm, probably purple, too.”

Colors? Those meant something too!?

“That matters?” Shiro asked in a small panic.

The man beside him kept his mouth shut, but Shiro still heard the strangled laugh.

“I mean, only if the other person knows the meanings,” he admitted. “Better safe than sorry, though.”

It was true, and the daughter of such an affluent family was sure to have at least some inkling of the language of flowers. He’d need to be very careful.

After a moment, the man spoke again. “I could put something together for you,” he suggested. “Any particular flower catch your eye?”

Put something… together? Customized? And by someone who clearly knew what he was doing, oh what a relief.

“I do like these, hm…” What was any of this called…? “These round ones below the roses.”

“Peonies, huh?” the man hummed, turning and walking toward the back of the shop. “Not the pansies?”

Shiro started, glanced up at the pots to find their placard, then felt his face flush. So he’d seen that…

“I didn’t think you could…” Did anyone make bouquets out of these little things? They were awfully cute.

“I’m sure Hunk won’t mind if I nab a few from his pots,” the man assured him as he curved around a rough wooden table and gathered up his supplies; large sheets of paper and yellow and purple ribbons as he had suggested. Then he took up a pen.

“Can I get your name?” he asked.

“Shiro.”

“Shiro…” he repeated back as he wrote it. Then he looked up and smiled. A proper smile, not teasing.

“I’m Keith,” he told him.

“Keith,” Shiro said back, reminding himself. Sure, he would be paying for his services, but Shiro felt indebted to him all the same. He was grateful to learn his name.

“Do you have any suggestions for me, Keith?” Shiro ventured, now that he knew the man’s name. “What’s your favorite?”

“My favorite?” Keith mused as he turned and looked up at the wall of flowers organized behind him. “Hydrangeas, I guess,” he finally answered as he pulled a few out.

Conveniently enough, they were purple and fanned out in a beautiful ball of tiny flowers. Shiro wondered if they meant something.

“Hydrangeas…”

He watched Keith pull them from the bucket in the wall, holding them near his face for a moment and giving the flowers a small smile. Shiro was entranced.

“Yes, I think those will work nicely.”

Watching Keith work was… mesmerizing. There was an intensity in his movements, his every choice deliberate; it was not some idle creativity but a mission to accomplish. The hydrangeas went down first as the center, surrounded by a loose ring of peonies. He plucked strings of yellow bells from their holder as if time was of the essence, then threaded them in between the peonies. The brown paper he had lain below was wrapped around the stems, slanted to cover one side of the bouquet, and the ribbons intertwined around it to hold everything close with a colorful bow. He didn’t even pause to admire his handiwork before he bent below the table to grab two wide green leaves and wedged them near the back of the bunch with careful precision. Then he snipped off several yellow pansies and lined the bottom of the bouquet with them, using twist ties to hold their short stems in place. He finally stopped with a sigh, his focus dissipating as he looked it over.

“That should do it,” he said, holding it out to Shiro.

It was small and unassuming, but purposeful. Shiro looked up at Keith, suddenly back to being small and unassuming himself.

“It’s perfect,” he murmured, taking it in both hands. “Thank you.”

Keith smiled. Shiro felt his breath catch.

Were there… other occasions for him to buy flowers coming up?


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When that guy from last Friday starts asking for flowers by name, Keith is so sure it's not because of him. He is the only one who believes this lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should mention, [Keith likes hydrangeas thanks to Mightier.](http://mightier.tumblr.com/post/147498147870/hydrangea-frigidity-grace-a-desire-for-a-deeper)

Keith wasn’t the best at remembering names and faces, especially when he didn’t see people for more than 10 minutes every few months, but when Shiro showed up again a week later Keith still remembered him. He was still in a suit, he still glanced around at the flowers like he didn’t know what he was doing, and his eyes still lingered on the pansies.

He probably wouldn’t have remembered Shiro so well were it not for the way the man had said his name, savored it like it was something he wanted to keep close to his heart. He wouldn’t have thought of the interaction had Shiro not paused on his way out, hadn’t turned around like he wanted to say something and then thought better of it. What more could there have possibly been to say? Another excuse to say Keith’s name? Shiro had taken so many of those, said his name again and again like he was desperate to memorize it, like he needed to taste it at least once more.

Keith’s chest had… clenched every time he heard it. The way Shiro said it, his voice deep and sensuous, it raked the coals of a fire he thought long dead. It was nerve wracking.

He wanted to hear it again.

“Shiro,” he said in greeting before the man could dillydally any longer than he clearly wanted to. “Didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

Shiro turned red all the way down his neck.

“Keith,” he responded with relief, like he had been waiting all week to say it. “Yes, well, I. Your advice went over so well last time that I thought I might try this again.”

Keith smiled. “Glad to hear it. What can I get you this time?”

“I was actually looking for…” he paused to swallow. “Daffodils?”

_Creativity, inspiration and new beginnings_. Was he looking for them on purpose?

“Sounds like things are going well, then,” Keith said, “wanting daffodils right after a going away present.”

Shiro’s whole body went rigid and his face flushed _again_. What was he so nervous about? Just buying the flowers was not supposed to be the difficult part.

“Yes, you could… say that,” Shiro said with a small smile after a moment.

Keith led the way to his work station where he pulled a few flowers from his loose stock.

“Something like last time?” he asked, setting aside a few daffodils.

“Smaller this time,” Shiro told him. “It’s far less formal an occasion…”

“Less formal, huh,” Keith muttered as he looked over his options. “It could still use something else to even it out…”

Last time Shiro had come he’d been pensive, kind of sombre when he wasn’t freaking out about being lost. This time he was almost giddy with nerves. New beginnings, did that mean it was for a date?

Keith smirked, then stooped down to grab a day lily. Shiro clearly wasn’t a man who knew how to flirt. He could let this flower do it for him.

“How long have you worked here, Keith?” Shiro asked suddenly.

Keith paused as he laid out the paper for wrapping and looked up at him.

“A few years, I guess?” he eventually answered with a shrug, turning back to his work. “It’s been awhile, anyway. I needed a job and Hunk’s parents saw fit to hire me. They were looking for an excuse to retire anyway.”

“That was a good call on their part. You’re good at what you do.”

Keith completely flubbed the knot he was tying. His pulse pounded against his chest. Shiro’s voice echoed in his head until the words had no meaning and only the low rumble remained.

He took a deep breath and tied the knot again.

“It’s not really hard or impressive or anything…” Keith muttered as he fussed with the newspaper wrapped around the small bundle. He held it out, desperate to look normal.

“Here,” he said.

Shiro smiled like he wanted to say something else. Instead, he took the flowers.

“Thanks for all your help, Keith.”

Why did it feel like the flowers had nothing to do with that smile?

“Yeah, thanks… thanks for coming in, Shiro.”

He didn’t hesitate on his way out this time.

Pidge eased herself around the door leading to the back room, leaning against the wall with a smirk.

“Wow, who’s your new boyfriend, Keith?” she asked, making no attempt to conceal her glee.

“Boyfriend?”

“Looked like a business type,” Lance said, also suddenly standing in the doorway. How long had he been there? “Probably loaded. But… Also probably boring.”

“Dude barely even knows what a daffodil is? You know he’s boring,” Hunk chimed in.

“What, were you all just standing there listening?” Keith snapped, incredulous. 

Pidge shrugged. “Well I was gonna bother you about pricing, but Hunk stopped me.”

“You were busy!” Hunk insisted.

Keith stared at them. “Nothing was going on.”

“Oh please,” Pidge groaned. “He was _obviously_ here to talk to you.”

“He just came here for daffodils.”

“Alright, then why did you give him the “I’m flirting with you” flower?” Lance asked, his brow high.

“I figured he’s trying to flirt with the person they’re for!” he shot back.

“And you think he has someone else to flirt with immediately after meeting you.” Hunk shook his head, clicking his tongue in his mouth. “Nope. Not buying it.”

“Maybe he only just thought of using flowers now!”

“Daffodils! Beginnings!” Lance cried out in reminder.

“He took them with him! They’re not for me!”

“Not buying it!” Hunk called as he turned to head back to his lab.

-

Shiro was back the next Friday.

“I was wondering if you had alyssums, sweet alyssums specifically. I haven’t heard of them before, but…”

“Yeah,” Keith answered as they both went straight for his work table. “Our supplier is nothing if not thorough. He slips in things we didn’t even order, it drives Pidge up the wall.”

Shiro laughed and it rumbled softly like he didn’t have much practice at it.

“It sounds like you have good friends as your business partners.”

Keith paused in his search for a flower to pair with the alyssums. The words tugged on his heart in a direction he wished it didn’t. What an optimistic and sappy thing to say about people he didn’t know. It was probably par for the course with Shiro, seeing as he was apparently the kind of man who went out of his way to use flowers to tell someone they were worth more than just their good looks.

Sweet alyssums were not a popular flower. He was definitely doing this on purpose.

“They’re a… a good bunch of guys,” Keith finally answered. “They probably do more for me than I deserve.”

_He’s one stupidly good natured guy_ , he thought to himself as he moved to where the mullein stalks were kept.

-

Every Friday like clockwork.

“Ranunculus. Seriously?” Keith shook his head and laughed as he turned and muttered, “where do you get this stuff?”

He knew exactly what to pair with that. He grabbed the white heather first, for good luck.

When he turned back around to bundle them together, Shiro was leaning with his elbows on the work table.

“Do you ever go home, Keith?”

Keith turned down to his flower arrangement to hide his surprise.

“What about you, you have a date every Friday?”

Shiro didn’t answer. What did it mean that he smiled like that? And why did Keith let him get away with it?

“You’re not on dates yourself?” he countered.

Keith scoffed. “Yeah, right. Not in a long while.”

Shiro looked a little concerned about that.

“I assume for lack of trying, since you never leave.”

Keith smirked.

“You caught me.”

He tied off the knot then held out the flowers. Shiro took them, breaths of laughter escaping him.

_I am dazzled by your charms_ , the flowers in his hand said.

-

Another Friday, another flirtatious flower exchange. Shiro had turned to wave on his way out, practically beaming. Keith allowed himself a small wave in return and he was still a little up in the clouds about it come closing time. He regretted letting it show on his face when Lance slid up beside him and poked at the receipts he had piled up.

“You keep track of everything he buys?” he asked, side-eyeing him.

Keith very stubbornly kept to his task of counting out the register. “They’re called invoices, Lance. I do this for everyone.”

“Yeah, but his are in a separate pile, dude.”

Hunk, who was _supposed_ to be watering the long term stock, picked up the small stack that was Shiro’s orders and flipped through them.

“There is clearly a pointed progression here,” he said. “It looks like he’s got a girlfriend.”

Pidge glanced at the invoices too, her logbook forgotten. 

“Wait a sec, his name is Shiro Takashi?” Then she picked up her phone and started typing furiously. “I think my brother knows him…”

“If he’s got a girlfriend, why is he chatting up Keith?” Lance asked

“He’s not “chatting me up,” he just comes in a lot.”

“Yeah. To chat you up.”

“It’s pretty fishy,” Hunk agreed.

“Oh my god,” Pidge said suddenly, still staring at her phone. “He doesn’t have a girlfriend, guys.”

Keith finally put the money down. He didn’t want to ask, but he did anyway. 

“What makes you so sure…?” 

Pidge looked up with a grin that threatened to split her face. “He just puts the flowers on his desk. He doesn’t give them to _anyone_.”

Lance burst out laughing.

Keith felt his face flush with heat. A thousand and one denials got clogged up in his throat. Shiro had to have a girlfriend, he was buying flowers for someone else, he didn’t care about Keith, he couldn’t…!

“What, why? Do you know that?” he managed to choke out.

“Wait wait wait,” Hunk said, waving his hands to clear his thoughts. “Let me get this straight. He comes here every friday. He asks for flowers by name which means he’s probably googling them or something.”

Lance, who was still laughing, cried, “he’s too chicken to hand them over!”

“Yeah, bro, they are totally for you,” Hunk concluded.

Keith’s mind went forcibly blank. He hadn’t wanted to consider that. Of course he knew it was a possibility but he had been ignoring that on purpose; best not to get his hopes up. Shiro was some kind of business man, his life was figured out and well put together, he was kind and handsome and…. And out of Keith’s league. Way out of his league.

His mind strayed to the flowers Shiro had bought. He didn’t need to check the invoices to remember. Shiro had called him inspiring. He’d called him charming, more than a pretty face, had offered him affection.

“Keith, you have to give him your number,” Pidge’s voice cut through his reverie like ice.

“What? No.”

Pidge rounded on him, stalked up to him and grabbed him by his arms. “Are you even looking at this crap, he’s so into you!” She shook him, shook him by his arms so firmly that his whole body rocked with each word. “Give him! Your number!”

No. He was only going to get hurt again. He knew that.

“Fine, god, let me go already,” he finally said, pushing Pidge off him and turning back to the register so they would stop bothering him about it.

-

Keith dreaded the next Friday. Dreaded it because now he was thinking too hard about things he knew couldn’t be true. And he was pissed the guys had effectively ruined his favorite day of the week. (He couldn’t tell them he was mad, they would just laugh and say “I told you so.”) He sat with his head in his hands, his arms propped up on his work table. It was just after noon. He glanced at his invoice pad, the strip of paper where he had written his number sticking out just slightly between the sheets. It was so stupid.

Shiro was far more subdued than he had been lately. His brows were furrowed and his eyes downcast as he came in. He looked up at Keith and smiled, small and wary.

Oh god. He’d screwed it up already. It was already over.

“Keith,” he said in greeting. “Ready and waiting, I see.”

“I’ve figured out your schedule this much at least,” Keith answered with a shrug. Keep it casual, keep it normal. Forget the damn phone number. “How’re you doing, Shiro?”

“Well, when I’m not getting harangued by my subordinates,” he said with a low chuckle. “Sometimes I wonder who the manager really is.”

“Sounds like my week.”

“Your friends giving you a hard time?”

“Not about anything relevant,” Keith quickly added. He had to remember that Shiro was entirely too earnest, he worried so easily. “But I’ll be glad when they finally shut up about it.”

“So they’re teasing you,” Shiro asked, “What about?”

“I don’t want you laughing at me too,” Keith muttered.

“I’m sure I wouldn’t.”

“What are your co-workers on your case about?” he asked instead of answering. Shiro let him get away with it.

“They say my methods are too safe,” he said, a little wistful. “I won’t get stuff done if I don’t take risks.”

Keith hummed. “You don’t get to be a manager by being reckless.”

“True. But it’s a little less fun, too.”

Shiro smiled like he had a secret, like there was some joke Keith wasn’t in on.

“Speaking of,” Shiro continued, “I came to look for… Purple lilacs.”

Lilacs. Lilacs in purple. Keith nearly teetered back and forth from the residual weight of Pidge shaking him.

“Oh.”

Shiro’s smile wasn’t hiding a secret; it was hiding the first signs of love. The flowers really were for him.

He turned around quickly, barely even seeing his flower stock. “Right. Lilacs. Okay.”

Should he pair something with them? What did he say? A compliment? But that wasn’t really an answer. Maybe a rose? It would be straightforward enough that Shiro would probably get it immediately, but it wasn’t quite accurate. Not yet anyway. Then what? His eyes darted back and forth, but there were too many options, none of them quite right.

The pot of daisies growing on display beside the register caught his eye. Garden daisies. Mutual sentiments. Keith grabbed the shears.

Hunk would understand.

They usually conversed while Keith worked but this time they were both too nervous. Keith gathered the lilac branches together, slipping daisies in between them, then wrapped it up in plain newspaper and tied it with corded string like he always did. He grabbed the slip of paper hidden in the invoices and tried not to let his shoulders stiffen so much as he wedged it into the center of the small bouquet.

“This one is on the house,” he said as he held it out.

“No, I couldn’t.”

“Take it,” Keith insisted. He couldn’t quite meet Shiro’s eyes. “You’re here often enough anyway.”

There was a long, silent, agonizing beat.

“Thank you, Keith.”

He risked a glance up and found Shiro grinning.

“See you around, Shiro.”

-

An hour later, Pidge sent him a text:

“I s2g your number better be written in giant neon letters all over those damn daisies”

Out loud, Keith said, “Why do you know that?”


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith doesn't.... date. Shiro doesn't either. They figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it is not readily apparent, here is what the bros do:  
> Lance's family owns an industrial nursery where Hunk gets stock for the shop. Hunk's shop was Lance's first solo responsibility (because their parents are friends)  
> Hunk is more horticultural engineer than shop owner, he spends his time splicing together flowers and making unique colors and shapes. He gives cuttings of his creations to Lance's family in exchange for a discount on stock.   
> Pidge is an accounting wiz, but no one will hire a kid without credentials so, on paper, she works as an apprentice to Lance's family accountant. Off the record, she manages all of the finances to Hunk's shop.

Was it… too soon? Should he call before going to the store? Shiro didn’t date, he didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t know what Keith would be comfortable with. But his heart had kept up it’s giddy pace all weekend and their smattering of texts had done nothing to quell it. So there he was, Monday afternoon, walking two blocks to the flower shop and trying to school his expression into something less… Overbearing. Less hopelessly eager.

He peaked into the doorway. He didn’t see Keith.

“Whoa, hold on, what day is it?” someone said within.

Shiro glanced up and found two others in the shop, one digging into a flower pot, the other set up by the register with a notebook sprawled across her lap. He’d never seen anyone else working here. He started to wonder if that was on purpose.

“Ah, sorry,” he said, stepping into the shop. “You must be Hunk.”

“That’s me.”

“Nice to finally put a face to the name. I don’t suppose Keith is in?”

Hunk shook his head. “He’s out grabbing food.”

“He lost a bet,” the girl at the register said with a grin. Her resemblance to Mat was striking. Didn’t he say he had a sister…?

“Sorry to disappoint, man,” Hunk added, clearly suppressing a grin of his own.

“It’s quite alright,” Shiro said. “Actually, maybe you can help me with something.”

-

Where did you go on a date when you rarely went out for fun? Shiro insisted that Keith’s preference was important, but he wasn’t sure he had one.

“Just keep it simple, the way you asked me out was too complicated,” he sent in a text.

“OK I think my creativity has dried up anyway,” came Shiro’s reply.

And so they went to play pool at the pub by Shiro’s office. His co-workers apparently went all the time. Simple, doable (not intimidating).

“I don’t actually know the rules,” Keith admitted as Shiro set up the table.

“I only sort of know them myself,” Shiro assured him.

They were both spectacularly bad. It had been weeks since Keith had laughed so hard.

“You missed that one on purpose, don’t let me win!”

“I was going for the trick shot,” Shiro said with a laugh.

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna trick your six right outta the way,” Keith grumbled as he lined up his next shot.

“Hey, c’mon, I need that,” Shiro said, placing his hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“Shiro!” called a group of men in suits. Probably co-workers.

They both looked up. Shiro’s touch only registered to Keith once he had let his hand drop. Shiro moved to greet the other men and Keith felt his warmth dissipate like tiny sparks across his skin.

They had been goofing around so much it had been so easy to forget that this was a date. But as he watched the broad lines of Shiro’s back and shoulders Keith became keenly aware of the fluttering in his chest and the churning in his stomach. Goofing around was all well and good, but Shiro wanted to know him. Wanted to know him and touch him and be close to him. How foolish was it that Keith wanted to let him?

Shiro patted one of the men on the shoulder as they turned to part ways.

“Let’s sync up first thing, I want those cards accurate before I present them,” he called after them.

“Yeah, yeah, now get your head out of the office!” the other man replied.

Shiro was smiling as he walked back up to Keith.

“I should have known I’d run into them, they’re here all the time,” he said with a chuckle.

“You didn’t have to chase them away on my account.”

His smile turned sly and he leaned in close, his warm breath ghosting over Keith’s ear.

“I can’t flirt with you properly when they’re around,” he whispered.

A shiver shot through Keith’s chest and down his spine. He clamped his mouth shut to keep from sighing.

“You’re not even flirting with me anyway,” Keith said quickly, pushing himself away with a light punch to Shiro’s arm. His voice shook. 

Shiro laughed, loud and loose. He let Keith back away and go back lining up his shot as if nothing happened, as if the promise in his voice wasn’t still echoing in his head.

-

Pidge was hanging out with Hunk in the lab when he got back.

“So did you do him?” she asked immediately.

“What, no,” he answered, perhaps too quickly. “We went out for drinks. He bought me chicken wings.”

Pidge rolled her eyes and groaned.

_He breathed in my ear and it was super hot_ , he didn’t say.

-

He was just joking when he suggested the arcade, poking fun at their apparent need to go on more dates before they even held hands like twitterpated school kids. They went anyway.

“It’s different,” Shiro had said. “Maybe it will work for us.”

_Everything has worked for us_ , Keith considered saying. Instead, he said, “yeah, maybe.”

The noise grated on his nerves more than he anticipated and Shiro towered over everyone in the building. They were grown adults in a place made for children but Shiro was not deterred. They changed bills for quarters and ignored how out of place they should have felt.

“You ready for dancing?” Keith said, jabbing his elbow into Shiro’s arm.

“I’d probably break something,” Shiro laughed. “Racing should be safe.”

“Wait, that shooter has two players.”

“A shooter, huh?”

Shiro picked up the plastic pistol with a practiced hand, turning it over and searching for movable parts. He tugged at the top and chuckled as it snapped back in place.

“Calm down, sergeant, it’s not real,” Keith said as he stacked their quarters between them.

“I hope you’re prepared to keep up, corporal.”

It took them only a few moments to figure out the controls. This wasn’t goofing off around a pool table, this they actually knew how to do. They called shots and enemy locations, they devised strategies for boss battles and they took their health bars way too seriously. Game overs on either side were rare and far between.

“Gah, this guy in the corner keeps shooting right at me.”

“Stay down, I got him.”

“Hold up, Shiro, on your left!”

Shiro hissed as he took damage.

“I always miss the guys on that side.”

“I’ll cover for you.”

Shiro placed his hand on Keith’s arm in thanks.

Some time later, the credits rolled. Keith blinked.

“Wait, that’s it?”

“That’s it?” Shiro laughed. “Keith, we’ve been at this for hours.”

“Oh. Time flies, I guess?”

“I’ll mark this outing as a success, then.”

Shiro put his arm around Keith’s shoulders to steer them out of the arcade and back out into the fresh (quiet) night air. Keith pressed himself against Shiro’s side and was relieved when he said nothing about it.

The hand on his shoulder held him close all the way home. 

-

“Yo, Hunk, Shiro bought you some fries,” Keith said, tossing the bag onto the desk beside Hunk.

Hunk stared at the bag. His hands were covered in dirt, but he was definitely considering picking them up and eating them anyway.

“Why is your boyfriend buying me food?” he asked, a touch of wonder in his tone.

“He’s not my-”

_Is he?_

“Fine, we won’t get you anything next time.”

“Not what I said!”

-

“Think you’re up for something quiet and cliché?” Shiro’s text asked.

“If I couldn’t handle clichés we wouldn’t be dating.”

Keith pressed send without thinking and immediately regretted it. They were dating, right? They didn’t really talk about that and they hadn’t done anything that felt particularly like being a couple. Were they supposed to be exclusive already? As much as he probably shouldn’t, Keith felt kind of committed, but did-

“True enough,” said Shiro’s text.

It came right away. Shiro hadn’t stopped to think about it, it hadn’t made things weird. Keith made himself stop worrying.

“So what did you have in mind?”

-

A coffee shop date. Shiro was right when he called it cliché and Keith heckled him about it despite having said it was okay.

“I’m going to buy you this croissant and you’re going to shut up about it,” Shiro said with a wry smile.

“Make it a lemon bar and you got a deal.”

Shiro had come to talk, to swap stories as it were. Keith gave him the abridged version; he was on his own sooner than anticipated and he picked up flower arranging mainly because Hunk didn’t care to. He skipped the sordid details, left holes in his stories that were gaping and obvious where his failures and fallouts should have gone. Shiro didn’t ask about them, but his eyes narrowed any time he noticed, as if trying to see through the words unsaid. Maybe Keith would fill in the blanks later if they came up again. But much later.

Shiro told his story too and it was a simple explanation for how much it entailed. A military man, air force. Deployed once, came back, got a job; he was in sales because that’s where his company decided to put him.

“I guess we’re alike in that,” Shiro said with a weird, melancholy half-smile. “We both took the work that was right in front of us.”

“What did you want to do?”

“I don’t really remember,” Shiro said, frowning. “Fly, I guess. But you can’t fly a fighter jet without fighting. You?”

Keith scoffed. “I just wanted to survive.”

“And here you are.”

Keith hid his smile behind his drink.

-

There was an odd sense of… significance to the date. Or maybe Keith was just thinking too hard on the concept of being “together.” It felt significant to have talked so much instead making jokes and playing games.

And yet, for all their talking, they still hadn’t talked about… them.

Shiro walked him back to the shop after every date. They were always close by. The chill of the night was just starting to set in and Keith kept his hands in his pockets even as he glanced at Shiro’s, wondering.

“Since we’re asking personal questions tonight,” he started, “I might as well ask… if there was anyone else you were thinking of dating.”

Shiro chuckled, ruefull, oddly… self deprecating. “I don’t date. You’re a special case.”

A special case.

“I guess that answers my question,” Keith mumbled.

“You guess?”

They stopped walking. They stood in front of the shop, where they usually said goodbye.

If he didn’t put it into words he would always be worried about it.

“… So we’re… exclusive?” Keith asked, his heart hammering in his ears. “Committed, even?”

He watched Shiro’s surprise melt into fondness. He smiled, soft and tentative.

“I’d like to be.” His voice was low, like a whisper.

Like a question.

Keith swallowed down a lump of emotions he couldn’t name.

“… Me too,” he managed to admit.

Shiro’s smile spread wide across his face, tilted and lopsided and beyond his control. He lifted his hand and brushed warm fingers up Keith’s jaw.

“Then let’s say we are.”

Keith tilted his chin up, wanting. Shiro tipped downward. Their lips slipped together with a sigh, a soft press that was barely enough to taste. Their mouths moved together oh so slowly as Shiro’s fingers slid up Keith’s cheek to draw him closer. The gentle touch sounded alarms in Keith’s mind.

He tried to ignore them; he wanted to kiss Shiro, wanted this closeness, this intimacy. Shiro wasn’t going to hurt him! But his chest seized as his heart raced and the soft glide of skin against skin warped into the icy prelude to pain.

Keith grabbed Shiro’s hand and wrenched it away from his face with a gasp. He stared at nothing as he tried to get his heart rate back on track, waiting for his panic to subside.

“Keith?”

Keith jumped and looked up to find Shiro staring at him, his brows drawn together in concern. He made himself loosen his vice-like grip on Shiro’s hand, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go, not yet.

“Sorry, I…”

_Oh god. What have I done?_

“I have to go,” he said, his words strangled. His throat felt raw and his pulse was a torrent in his chest.

He ripped his gaze away from Shiro’s and hurried into the shop.


	4. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro has taken root in Keith's heart. Lucky for him plant metaphors are the only kind Keith understands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're here at the final Friday! Thank you all for sticking around. I didn't write this to be good, I just wanted something to be happy about. I hope it serves as a light for your dark days too.

Shiro didn’t text him. He probably didn’t know what to say after that display. Probably wasn’t too keen on sticking around now that he’d seen the kind of baggage Keith came with. No one would.

Keith should have known better.

-

“What did you do!?” Pidge shouted as soon as she spotted him.

“What now,” Keith groaned.

Pidge stalked up to him, her phone clutched in her hand like she couldn’t even be bothered to put it away.

“What did you do to Shiro?” she demanded. “Matt said he was totally out of this morning, who else could have that effect on him!”

Keith glared.

“Why do you even care, is this why you’re not at Lance’s like you’re supposed to be?”

“I could be here to take stock,” she said, crossing her arms and standing up straight to be less in his face. “I’ve got valid reasons to be here.”

“Then go check the stock and leave me alone.”

“Damnit! Keith! Let people care about you for once in your life! Your lone wolf shtick isn’t doing you any favors.”

As if he didn’t know that. As if he had any control over the simple touches that set him on edge. As if he pushed Shiro away on purpose. His frustration roared.

“Listen Pidge,” Keith said, his words strained in his attempt to keep from shouting. It was his turn to get in her face. “You don’t know anything about what happened so you’ve got no right trying to lecture me. Get your nose out of my business.”

He could still see anger simmering in Pidge’s frown, but there was something else clouding over it. Something like long standing frustration.

“… If you care about him this much, why are you doing this to yourself?”

Because he didn’t mean to care this much. Because he didn’t want to admit that Shiro might care too.

“It doesn’t matter how much I care,” he said instead.

Her frown turned to a pout.

“You’re not giving him enough credit,” she said before she finally left him alone.

-

“What happened to you?” Lance asked as soon as Keith came out to help unload the deliveries.

“He’s an idiot,” Pidge said in way of explanation, an oddly wicked grin spread across her face.

Keith shot her a scowl. “Thanks, shut up.”

“Ah,” Lance said, “something happened with the boyfriend.”

“He’s not my-” he started to shoot back automatically, but stopped himself. That was… not the issue at hand. He sighed and tried again. “Yes, I freaked out.”

Lance barked a laugh. “Classic.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lance shrugged, even as he hauled a large planter off the truck. “You never let yourself have nice things. Figured you’d run away screaming when you liked him enough.”

“I didn’t run screaming,” Keith muttered into a barrel of carnations. He looked up at Lance and said, “I didn’t do this on purpose.”

“Yeah, but you’re not fixing it on purpose.”

“I-” he started before he had thought of a counter. His mouth hung open for a moment before he gave up.

Beside him, Hunk raised his brow.

“He’s got a point, man.”

“I guess…” Keith mumbled as they both hauled their barrels inside.

-

By the end of the day, Keith still wasn’t convinced this… _thing_ with Shiro wasn’t a lost cause. Even if he reached out he was just going to freak out again. Shiro would get tired of him. Their relationship would wither and die with nothing to hold them together. That’s how it always was.

“It’s weird that you’re still here on a Friday night,” Hunk said, hunched over a wide, shallow planter where he was planting new dahlia cuttings. “Not that I mind. Your orchids missed you.”

“Plants are better than people anyway,” Keith sighed, flicking at the leaf of the orchid beside him. “They take root and stick around. They’re always right where I leave them”

Hunk leaned back from his planter and hummed.

“But plants only stick around properly when you take care of them,” he said. “Sure, you can chose where they take root, but they’ll always be looking towards the sun. But you water them anyway, and make sure they don’t hurt themselves while they reach for that light. That’s when they really thrive.”

Keith stared at him as he took the words in. He knew how to work a garden well enough that it didn’t even take effort for him to grow anything anymore. But… Plants were still living things. They still had to be taken care of. And they…

_They’ll always be looking towards the sun._

Keith thought of Shiro, talking business over the phone even in his off hours. He remembered how Shiro had held out his hand, had taken Keith’s and squeezed it even as he was distracted.

_But you water them anyway._

He dropped his eyes, seeing nothing. Pieces began to fit together, understanding taking root. Then he stood.

“I’ll… be right back. Gotta make a phone call.”

Hunk leaned over his cuttings again.

“Don’t forget to tell Pidge all the “juicy details” or whatever,” he called after him.

-

They had never called each other, not even once. But texting would have taken too long and Keith knew by the hammering in his chest that he would have chickened out if he had taken the time to type something out.

It barely rang 3 times before Shiro answered.

“Keith?”

He sounded so relieved.

“I…” Keith trailed off, already at a loss. How did he even begin?

Shiro waited. Keith could hear him breath into the receiver so he knew he hadn’t lost him. Ever patient and forgiving; this was how hew knew Shiro was out of his league.

Keith forced the words out.

“Can you come to the shop?”

Shiro let out a breath.

“I’ll be right there.”

-

Keith waited outside, the cold nipping his nerves into something manageable. It took the sting out of how stupid he felt as he tried to figure out how to start the conversation. He couldn’t afford to downplay how much trouble he was probably going to be.

He couldn’t keep from wondering why he was bothering.

Shiro didn’t keep him waiting long; sweat trickled down his brow and his chest heaved as he slowed to a stop beside the shop. He must have run the whole way.

_Why?_

“… Hey,” Keith made himself say. He kept his arms folded in front of him, partly from the cold but mostly because he wasn’t sure what to do.

Shiro smiled at him. It was weak and hesitant.

“I’m… glad you called,” he said. “I figured you needed some space after…” Then he clamped his mouth shut.

“Oh.” So that was why… “Yeah, I guess I did.”

There was silence for a moment, neither of them looking at each other. A heavy expectation hung above them and an apology sat ready on Keith’s tongue. At the very least, he needed to say something.

“Let’s go inside, it’s cold out here.”

Shiro clearly hadn’t been expecting that. But he wordlessly followed Keith as he lead them back to the work table where they always spent Shiro’s Friday lunch hour.

Keith pressed his hands against the rough wooden surface, steadying himself on the familiar. Where did he even begin? Wanting was all well and good, but it wouldn’t get him anywhere if he couldn’t put words to it.

“I’m sorry for… running out on you last week,” he said after too long.

“Not at all, you looked just as surprised as me,” Shiro said immediately, propping his hip against the table and laying his hand near Keith’s. So close and yet not. “I’m sorry if I did something to upset you.”

Keith shook his head. “You couldn’t have known, I didn’t tell you.”

“Hardly a valid excuse. But what is it you haven’t told me?”

He should look up. He should look Shiro in the eye as he warned him what he was signing up for. He should show that he was willing to be honest and open about it.

Keith kept his eyes on the table in front of him.

“… I’m not convinced anyone will stick around with me for long,” he finally said. He didn’t dare check for Shiro’s reaction. “So when you’re so nice to me it… It feels like you’re lying, like you’re setting me up to hurt me.”

“Keith…!” Shiro started, and Keith could see from the corner of his eye how he leaned forward, how he wanted to stop being careful and physically do something to help.

Keith put his hand on Shiro’s, bridging that scant gap.

“I know,” he said, looking at their hands now. He looked at how they awkwardly fit together, finding something new to give him strength. He squeezed Shiro’s fingers. “I know that’s not what you’re thinking. They never think they’ll leave at first…”

The thought tightened his throat, cutting off anything else he could have thought to say.

They were still for a moment, silent. Keith still couldn’t manage to look up and so he watched as Shiro’s hand turned under his, their fingers threading together seamlessly.

Finally he turned to Shiro.

“What will it take to convince you that I’m not going anywhere?” Shiro asked. “Time?”

“I don’t know,” Keith admitted. Now that he was looking at Shiro he couldn’t turn away. “I don’t really let people try.”

Shiro smiled, forgiving and unafraid.

“Will you let me?”

The ‘yes’ tripped in his throat on it’s way out. Instead he was left speechless.

“I’m willing to try whatever you need,” Shiro continued in the silence. “You set the pace, we can go as slow as you want.”

It was absurd, how much Keith wanted him. Even worse was how hard he had been on himself for that.

He fisted his free hand in Shiro’s shirt and dragged him closer.

“I don’t want to go slow,” he growled.

He surged forward and crashed their lips together, too hasty to be a kiss, too incessant to be anything else. Shiro made a faint noise of surprise deep in his throat before melting into Keith’s hold. His hand hovered somewhere near Keith’s shoulder for a moment before sliding gentle fingers behind his back to run down his spine. Shiro tilted his head and opened his mouth to move their lips.

Now _that_ was a kiss. The heat of their mouths, the pull of their lips. They pressed closer, hungry for each other. It didn't feel like their first but it felt like the only one that mattered. 

Keith brought both of his hands up near Shiro’s collar and flattened his palms against his shirt. He could feel the muscles he knew were there beneath the fabric, solid and well defined. He ran his fingers down Shiro’s chest, running his fingers along the dips and ridges between them.

Shiro sighed into the kiss.

Heat pooled beneath Keith’s gut. He pushed forward, trying to get closer, and pinned Shiro back against the work table. It still felt like too much space between them, it left him empty and irritated and clamoring for more. His tongue, impatient and wanting, slipped out to swipe at Shiro’s lips. Shiro obliged him, wrapping Keith’s tongue in the wet heat of his mouth and it made everything worse, so much worse, knowing what he almost had beneath the fabric and the pretense.

Shiro’s hands pressed firmly at the small of his back and Keith could tell he was not alone in his sudden frustration. Keith slid his hands up Shiro’s chest, reaching up to hook his fingers behind his neck as if pressing harder would ease them. It teased a groan from Shiro’s throat but even that made it worse. Already none of this was enough.

Shiro’s hands finally plunged past his hips, taking Keith’s ass with his hands and forcefully grinding their hips against each other.

The kiss fell apart and they both moaned.

“This is probably the part where I tell you how hot you are,” Keith muttered into his ear.

“That’s my line. When I’m with you I can’t look away.” Shiro ducked his head beneath Keith’s chin and his lips moved against the skin of his neck. “I want to taste every inch of you.”

“God,” Keith gasped as his head fell back. He felt the muscles of Shiro’s chest move beneath his hands as they roamed downward once more and he splayed his fingers to savor it more. “What it must be like under these damn suits,” he muttered.

Shiro’s chuckle in answer rumbled all the way down Keith’s spine to the heat pressed into Shiro’s thigh. He rolled his hips, aching for friction or purchase, anything other than the stiff hold of his jeans.

Shiro gasped into his neck as their hips moved together, his breath hot against Keith’s wet skin. They were lost in it, their heady rhythm, the frantic press of their bodies. Keith lifted his leg to fit himself closer and Shiro’s hand followed, trailing the round of his ass and squeezing his thigh.

“Shiro,” Keith moaned, too far gone to feel anything akin to shame or reservation.

Shiro’s teeth clamped down on Keith’s neck, a growl rumbling from his chest as it heaved beneath Keith’s hands. Wet lips settled over the abused skin for the barest moment before Shiro’s hands were suddenly on Keith’s shoulders, breaking them apart.

They both stared at each other, breathing heavy and ragged. Shiro looked at Keith intently, locking his gaze. His eyes were dark and piercing, even as he held Keith back.

“Keith, if I’m going to prove to you that I’m not going anywhere, this isn’t quite how I’d go about it.”

Even as Shiro said this he slipped one of his fingers under the fabric of Keith’s shirt and traced slow circles around the skin of Keith’s shoulder. It sent sparks all the way down.

“I want to kiss you for saying that, but I guess that would be counter-productive.”

Shiro tired so hard not to smile but it forced it’s way onto his face regardless. He chuckled softly through his nose.

“As much as I would like it, yes. Very counter-productive.”

Shiro raised his hand and it hovered dangerously close to Keith’s cheek for a moment. His smile faded into uncertainty until he snapped his hand back, remembering something.

“Oh, I hope I didn’t crush it too badly,” he muttered as he reached into his coat. “Wasn’t exactly planning on getting so _rough_.”

From his inner coat pocket Shiro pulled out a single stem of a hydrangea flowers. They were crumbled and lopsided, but Keith’s heart leapt up his throat just the same.

“I was thinking about how it’s difficult to get flowers for a florist,” Shiro said in explanation.

Keith took the hydrangeas carefully and suddenly felt at a loss. This was unprecedented.

Amusement bubbled up from his chest before he had a chance to stop it.

“Did you just rip this off some poor, unsuspecting plant on the way here?” he asked through his failed attempts to keep from laughing.

“Of course not,” Shiro answered immediately before sheepishly adding, “I have one in my apartment. That I bought from Hunk.”

The new wave of laughter nearly made Keith double over.

“And you tore this piece off,” he said, hardly able to breathe. “Look at this stem, it’s so screwed up!”

Shiro looped his arms around Keith’s hips and smiled wryly at him.

“What would you have me do?” he asked.

“Use scissors? Not bother?” His laughter was finally subsiding and he breathed deeply to catch up.

“No, I love it,” he finally admitted, letting a stupid grin spread across his face.

Shiro tightened his hold, bringing them close once more.

“Take this as a sign that you’ve taken root in my heart, Keith. And I’m determined to keep it that way.”

Keith was afraid his chest might burst. But these nerves, the soft butterflies who had taken up residence in his heart, were so much nicer than anything else he’d ever dealt with. Shiro had to know, he had to have looked up hydrangeas just like he had every other flower.

_Desire for a deeper connection._

He looked up at Shiro and it was alarming how honestly they both smiled.

“Okay.”

-

Shiro’s apartment was just as plain as Keith imagined; white walls, white tiles, silver accents, sparse furniture in either black or clear glass. It made the one splash of color by the sliding glass door all the more vivid.

“Is this the one you tore up?” Keith asked with a laugh, kneeling down to look at the hydrangeas.

“What do you think, doc? Will she make it?” Shiro asked as he hung up both their coats.

“She’ll be fine,” Keith said, inspecting the leaves and checking the soil. “How long did you say you’ve had this?”

Shiro hummed in thought. He came around to flop down onto his couch, his face still twisted in consideration.

“Don’t know. How long ago did you give me your number?”

That… had been months ago now. Back when Shiro had known nothing of plants or flowers. And these were still doing so well.

“That long?” Keith asked, a blush creeping up his neck.

“I hope it’s alright I asked for Hunk’s number, I needed his advice on taking care of it.”

Keith chuckled as he stood and sauntered over to join Shiro on the couch.

“I’m sure he’s happy to help.”

Beside him Shiro looked at ease and content, his arms outstretched along the back of the couch. Shiro lifted his hand to brush his thumb against Keith’s cheek.

Keith flinched automatically even as his hand darted up to keep Shiro’s in place before he could pull back. His heart hammered in alarm for a moment, but a deep breath served to settle most of his nerves.

“Sorry I like touching your face so much.”

“Don’t be sorry, just keep trying,” Keith murmured into Shiro’s palm. “I want so much to trust you.”

Shiro smiled as he leaned closer.

“I’ll look forward to it.”


End file.
